


Blank Slate

by BansheeLydia



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Agents of Shield AU, Angst, Brainwashing, Crossover, F/M, Guns, Hydra, SHIELD Agent Allison Argent, SHIELD Agent Stiles Stilinski, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 05:07:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9369284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BansheeLydia/pseuds/BansheeLydia
Summary: They’d been engaged once. It felt like yesterday and it felt like a lifetime ago, but in reality, it had been a less than a year since she’d woken up on Christmas morning and Stiles had kissed her before dropping down onto one knee, a beautiful grin on his face and a ring box in his hand.She rubbed at the ring still on her finger, chest tight.He’d disappeared three weeks later.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [clotpolesonly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clotpolesonly/gifts).



“You won’t kill me.”

It was snowing.

Little flakes drifted down around Allison, settling onto the thick layer already blanketing the ground. It was dark, but the huge Christmas tree lit up the night, throwing dancing hues across the snow. There were other people who had come to see the market, but Allison’s focus was on the man stood a few feet away, watching her.

Stiles.

Seeing him made her heart ache. She had a scar on her belly from the last time they’d seen each other, though she’d given as good as she’d got.

They’d been engaged once. It felt like yesterday and it felt like a lifetime ago, but in reality, it had been a less than a year since she’d woken up on Christmas morning and Stiles had kissed her before dropping down onto one knee, a beautiful grin on his face and a ring box in his hand.

She rubbed at the ring still on her finger, chest tight.

He’d disappeared three weeks later.

He’d dropped off the grid in the middle of a mission and no matter how hard they – no matter how hard _she_ – searched, no clue, no sign, _nothing_ came up. Stiles had just disappeared entirely. 

Until four months ago. She’d been on a mission in France, just her and her new partner Whittemore, to take out a Hydra higher up. It would have been easy, except she hadn’t known he was protected. She hadn’t known he was protected by _Stiles_.

Despite the look on his face, despite the clothes he wore and the change in how he held himself, despite the complete lack of warmth and recognition in Stiles’ eyes, it had taken Allison too long to put the pieces together. She’d let her feelings break through – relief that he was alive, confusion and worry that he was _here_ and he was _between_ her and her target – and it had almost cost her; it took the first sharp pain of the blade across her stomach to snap her back into the moment.

The fight had been fast and brutal. Allison had relied on her training, on muscle memory, to carry her through, but she kept expecting Stiles to fight the way he had when they worked out together. But he was different. A lot of his moves were similar, but he executed them so differently, and the fight ended with Stiles’ ribs broken and Allison fighting her way out of a swimming pool before he could drown her.

Her target had got away. Stiles had too.

But now he was here in Reykjavik and she couldn’t work out why; her mission here was over and it’d had nothing to do with Stiles or Hydra, despite her focused work since France to find him. Her parameters were to bring him in alive where possible, kill him if not.

Agents Whittemore, Hale and Reyes were her team for any missions where she might encounter Stiles. She’d been told it was for back up if she needed it. She knew it was really so they could take him out if she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“You won’t kill me,” she repeated, shifting her stance slightly. “You know me, right?”

Stiles didn’t move. The blankness on his face made Allison’s heart ache, but she didn’t let it show, just gazed back calmly. 

“I know you,” he finally repeated.

Allison could’ve cried. “Yeah, Stiles. I know Hydra took you. I know they’ve brainwashed you. But you know me. You could’ve killed me in France, but you held back in the pool, I _know_ you did. I know if anyone can fight this, it’s you.”

“I know you,” Stiles said again. He crossed the distance between them. His hand lifted and Allison refused to flinch, gazing at him as he gently placed trembling fingers on her jaw, his expression troubled, pained. “ _Allison_.”

Tears spilled over, tracking down Allison’s cheeks. She lifted her hand, resting it on top of Stiles’ to hold his palm to her face. Her heart felt like it was breaking and repairing all at the same time.

“Agent 11, do you remember him?” Allison said desperately. “He was brainwashed too and it took time but he’s _him again_. He got through it. You can too. We’ll fix this, Stiles. We’ll fix it and then we’ll make Hydra regret ever laying a finger on you.”

Gentle thumbs wiped the tears away from her cheeks and something broke on his face, a gentleness that was so completely _Stiles_ shining in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something and –

“Agent 24.”

Allison swore quietly, looking over Stiles’ shoulder at Whittemore. He had his hand on his gun, ready to draw it, and her heart lurched in her chest.

“Agent 24, we need you to come with us.”

Stiles turned slightly at the hard tone and Allison saw it the second he noticed the gun; his posture changed in an instant, that horrible, cold blankness returning to his face. He moved fast; Whittemore barely had time to draw his gun before his wrist was brutally broken, the weapon dropping to the snow. A sickening _crunch_ sounded as Stiles’ fist connected with Whittemore’s nose and he crumpled. 

“Stiles!” Allison shouted. “Stiles, _don’t_.”

He turned sharply towards her and her hand flinched towards her belt, but Stiles suddenly stopped, hand flying to his neck where Allison could just barely see the dart Hale had fired. She moved forward to catch him as he went down, cupping his cheek.

“I’ve got you,” she said softly. “I’ve got you and I won’t let anybody hurt you, I promise. I’ll be here when you wake up. We’ll fix this, Stiles, you and me. Just like always.”

He blinked heavily, hand moving to grip her wrist. “I know you,” he mumbled. “I _know_ you.”

A breath trembled out of her as he lost his fight to stay awake. Around her, a crowd of people had gathered and she could already hear people on the phone to the emergency services. They needed to get Stiles out of here and back to base, but right now, all Allison could do was press her forehead against Stiles’ and close her eyes, hoping that everything would be okay.

She couldn’t lose him again.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm currently accepting prompts at allirica.tumblr.com


End file.
